


Sweet Dreams

by CGotAnAccount



Series: ADVENTure Is Out There! [18]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Accidental Confession, Baby's first angst, M/M, Pining, SHEITH - Freeform, Soft Boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-18 08:54:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21841525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CGotAnAccount/pseuds/CGotAnAccount
Summary: Keith squints at the glass and plastic contraption hanging from his finger, clearly skeptical as Pidge wiggles encouraging eyebrows at him.“Don't you wanna try it?”She's so enthusiastic about the new project – something cobbled together from Allura's headsets and some sort of Olkari hallucinogenic pollen that reacts when heated – that she's practically bouncing in place. He hates to discourage her, but...“It looks like one of those old sci-fi laser eyes visors.”
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Series: ADVENTure Is Out There! [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558660
Comments: 29
Kudos: 173





	Sweet Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Day 18!

Keith squints at the glass and plastic contraption hanging from his finger, clearly skeptical as Pidge wiggles encouraging eyebrows at him.

“Don't you wanna try it?”

She's so enthusiastic about the new project – something cobbled together from Allura's headsets and some sort of Olkari hallucinogenic pollen that reacts when heated – that she's practically bouncing in place. He hates to discourage her, but...

“It looks like one of those old sci-fi laser eyes visors.”

He twists it around, peering at the foam inserts meant to pad his temples. It also doesn't look particularly comfortable for sleeping.

“I know right?” Pidge is nearly giddy, apparently not seeing the problem with night time laser eyes. “It's so cool... if my calculations are correct there should be enough pollen in there to give you total control of your dreamscape – like lucid dreaming but on steroids.”

“Who has time for sleep these days?” Keith grunts, shooting a knowing grin at the circles under her eyes that probably match his own. “Do you have anything that'll just knock me unconscious for a few hours?”

Pidge shrugs and grabs a hammer from the tray next to her, hefting it into a battle stance.

“I could give you a good wallop with one of these I guess, but that wouldn't be nearly as fun.”

His answering gulp is audible as Keith raises his hands in surrender, headset still dangling from his fingers.

“That's fine Pidgeon.” She raises an eyebrow and takes a step closer, forcing him to take a step back to stay out of hammer range. “Really, dreamland sounds great, I'll play guinea pig for you.”

An impish smile curls a cross her face as she plunks the hammer back down, turning to wipe her hands clean on her pants. “I knew you'd see things my way.” She grabs a canister of glimmering dust and holds it out, pointing at the empty slot in the top of the visor. “This thing goes in here. Once you turn it on it should heat and disburse pretty quickly... you don't need to keep the headset inside your dream since it's just your imagination at that point.”

He blinks at the powder, then back up at her. The powder seems less dangerous to cross.

“Alright Pidge.” He takes the tube with careful fingers and a sigh. “Don't kill me.”

“Wouldn't dream of it,” She chirps, ushering him out of the lab. “Now go to bed, I want a full report tomorrow!”

The headset isn't as uncomfortable as he might have expected – maybe a little annoying with the straps that plaster his hair to the back of his head, but otherwise no worse than wearing flight goggles.

Although – he's never tried to sleep with the flight goggles on before.

Regardless, it seems prudent to go to bed early, just in case Pidge plans to knock him out for a solid fifteen hours and watch him scramble to make it to his meetings tomorrow, likely dazed and still high off his ass from whatever glittery mushroom sparkles he's about to shoot straight into his brain.

He sighs and climbs into bed, reaching up to poke the little blue button at his temple that starts the process. For a second there's not much of anything, maybe a gentle humming and a little bit of warmth around his eyes.

Then there's a burst of golden light, warm across him, and he can feel himself drifting off, his eyelids too heavy to fight through the swirling colors in front of him. It's a nice feeling, like floating in an endless pool, drifting through the possibilities before letting himself sink into one.

He thinks about what he'd like to dream of, flying maybe? Or a day spent frolicking with Kosmo, chasing butterflies instead of doing paperwork... or maybe-

A knock startles him, and he sinks...

Into the most mundane dream possible.

He's in his room, just as he left it, even imagining himself in that stupid headset. His sheets don't feel any different, his room is still fairly spartan, and the only thing that indicates any change at all is the slightly dimmer glow in his lights.

Figures his own brain would try to give him mood lighting instead of something exciting.

The knock sounds again, startling him into sliding the headset off completely, setting it aside on top of the bedside table. He briefly wonders if he could just magic it away with his mind, or if that's not how lucid dreaming works... but Pidge did say he would have complete control over the dream.

He hesitates a step from the door, wondering who he might have conjured up to bother him. It's not like he would willingly summon Lance or anyone, but so far his brain seems to be stuck on 'mundane to the extreme' and if someone is here to deliver paperwork in his sleep he's going to scream.

Another soft tap and a concerned, “Keith?”

Of _course_.

Keith smiles to himself, shaking his head as he reaches out to palm the door open. Of course it's him, who else would his subconscious want to spend more than waking hours with?

“Hey Shiro, what's up?”

Shiro startles in the doorway, then relaxes as his expression of concern morphs into that soft look Keith knows so well.

“Hey buddy, just wanted to check on you.” He shuffles a little in the doorway, rubbing at the back of his neck. “You went to bed pretty early.”

Keith doesn't bother to mask his huff of laughter. Of course he'd conjure up a Shiro concerned with his well being, apparently unable to step one toe out of the bounds of reality. He shakes his head, biting his lip as he looks up at this dream Shiro that he's painstakingly recreated – right down to the flecks in his eyes.

“I guess I did, didn't I?” He steps back, sweeping his arm to usher Shiro inside. “Come in and join me.”

There's no harm in being bold, he decides as he shuts the door behind Shiro and herds him to the bed. It's not like either of them will remember this, and even if he does it'll just be another of his rare good dreams.

“You're looking handsome today, Shiro.” He winks as he grabs a bottle of water from the mini cooler and hands it over. The condensation feels so real as it prickles against his palm – he'll have to make note of that for Pidge later. Shiro's eyebrows rise as faint pink dusts the bridge of his nose around the scar, but Keith is feeling cheeky and free. “Then again, you always look handsome.”

“Oh, uh thanks?” Shiro squeaks, hand nearly crunching the water bottle. “You look... really good too Keith.”

It's objectively a lie since he just rolled out of bed, unless somehow his dream self looks gorgeous to Shiro because that's what he wants to hear, which isn't entirely unreasonable... no, especially not if this is his dream come true to control.

In fact, that's probably what's happening, in which case...

“Well, you know,” Keith drawls, smirking as he strolls back over to sit down next to Shiro, too close by far, and sets a hand on his knee. “I always want to look good for you, Shiro.”

He bats his eyelashes, just because he can.

Shiro's face heats up like a kettle, and Keith wonders briefly if he could think hard enough to make steam pour out of his ears, or if his mind is a bit too boring for that.

“K-Keith?” Shiro gulps, eyes wide as they follow the fingers walking themselves up his thigh. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Never better big guy.”

It's a purr, something sultry he'd never have thought would come out of this throat, but it's got Shiro's pulse jumping in his neck as Keith leans in close. Shiro smells amazing, as always, and he takes a minute to appreciate the subtle scent that he knows so well he managed to recreate it in his sleep.

“You have no idea how long I've waited for you.” He lets the corner of his mouth quirk up as he leans close enough to nuzzle into Shiro's neck, trailing his nose into the crook of his ear to press a kiss there. “Every waking moment is you... it only figures it would be the same asleep too, right?”

“I- _Keith_.” Shiro whimpers, reaching to curl an arm around Keith's waist, just holding like he's torn between dragging the lithe body onto him or pushing it away. “What do you mean?”

Keith smiles against Shiro's neck, letting his eyelashes sweep across the skin of his jaw as he closes his eyes and savors the moment. Of course his brain couldn't just make this easy on him and have Shiro fall into his arms immediately – not even he can delude himself into thinking it'd be that easy... but at least this way he'll get a little practice. Just in case, well...

“You're my dream come true, Shiro.” The words are whispered into stubble, and it sends a thrill through Keith to feel the answering shiver in the body pressed to his. He lets his lips drag as he smiles, pressing another kiss with a sigh. “I love you, every waking moment and beyond.”

“Keith...” Shiro chokes out, ragged and raw. Keith can feel the bob of his throat as he swallows and the sudden skip in his pulse as it begins racing beneath his lips. Fingers dig into his hip as the other arm wraps around him entirely, cradling his body to Shiro's chest as the man tucks his head over Keith's hair. He thinks Shiro might be smelling his rumpled locks, but his arms are trembling too much to tell. “Keith... why now?”

Keith doesn't bother to wonder why he asks himself such existential questions through the proxy of the man he loves in one of the most intimate moments he'll never have. He's amazed that he's even let himself have such a positive reception. Instead, he pulls back enough to meet Shiro's tearful gaze with a soft smile of his own, reaching up to brush away the moisture glimmering on Shiro's lashes.

“Because, Shiro,” he croons, fingers tracing lines and scars that he's always wanted to worship. “I'm dreaming, and you're the only dream I've ever wanted to come true.”

Shiro blinks down at him then, smile bewildered but no less fond.

“Why do you think you're dreaming?”

Keith laughs then, open and wistful in a way he never lets himself show, even around Shiro.

“Because I told you I love you, and you're still holding me.” It's not sad the way he says it, he's known his place for far too long to let something like reality temper this bubble of happiness he's secured for himself. It's just an assertion of the evidence, to himself, from himself. He lets his hand comb through Shiro's bangs to see if his mind made them as soft as he's always wondered, and leans in to whisper. “Because I know you don't love me... this is the only way I'll ever have you, and that's enough for me.”

There's a hitch in Shiro's chest, a tremor that rattles through him as he chokes what might be a sob into Keith's hair. Strong arms crush Keith even tighter to his chest and he goes willingly, rueful that even in his dreams all he can do is make Shiro hurt.

“It's okay, Shiro... it's just a dream.” Keith snuggles into the embrace, letting his head rest against that steady heartbeat. “I won't ever tell you and make you sad.”

There's a sharp sniffle in his hair as Shiro shakes his head, clutching like Keith might escape the very arms he's created to hold him. It figures that he couldn't just come up with them riding hoverbikes or wrestling... he just had to make his own personal Shiro sad too.

“I do love you.”

The words are whispered into his temple and Keith smiles, heart clenching at the words that seem so real.

“I know you do Shiro, you've done so much for me... I appreciate whatever you have to give.”

“No, Keith, I-” Shiro cuts himself off abruptly, pulling away to take in Keith's placid face, eyes hazy like a sleepwalker. “I'll tell you tomorrow, okay? I swear.” He reels Keith in close again, pressing a kiss to his hair. “I tell you every day after that too.”

“Heh... okay Shiro.” Keith sighs pats him on the shoulder, letting his head rest there with a jaw cracking yawn. “Oh, the stuff must be wearing off...” He shakes his head a little and leans back to peer at the clock. “I wonder how long it's really been... gotta... make notes...”

He yawns again, eyes slipping shut as Shiro gently lowers him to the sheets and slides them up around him, tucking him in.

“Sleep, baby.” He whispers to a slowly sinking Keith. “We'll talk tomorrow.”

Keith thinks he nods at him, or he tries at least. Either way, Shiro will know what he means – after all, Keith wants him too, and it's his own sweet dream.

He lets himself drift.

And wakes up to obnoxious beeping.

At least that hasn't changed any.

The headset rests on the bedside table, vial of gold space pixie dust drugs empty and innocent. He must've slipped it off during the night when the straps got too uncomfortable.

Maybe that explains the utterly mundane and not particularly fantastic dream... maybe Pidge can just liquefy it next time and shoot it straight into his arm so he can get a little more than an angsty cuddle before it wears off.

At least it didn't knock him on his ass for the next day and a half... all told this is probably one of the more successful Holt guinea pig episodes. The only possible casualty is his dignity when he sees Shiro today and has to deal with the utter lack of change between them.

Still, he hasn't turned green, there's no fur in weird places, he didn't die in his sleep, and he didn't have any nightmares.

He rolls out of bed and sets about getting ready for his day, snagging the headset on the way out the door with a spring in his step. He's got enough time to drop it off at the lab and still catch Shiro for breakfast before they get dragged into another long day of briefings and ass-patting.

Unfortunately he gets derailed half way.

“Oh god, she got you too?” Lance groans as he stumbles out of his room looking like he's been dragged behind a moon buggy. The headset hangs from his limp grasp as the other hand covers his mouth, holding back whatever appears to be making him thoroughly greenish. “I told her the shrooms were a bad idea.”

Keith can't quite bite back his snicker as he shrugs and keeps walking.

“Went fine for me.”

“Went _fine_?” Lance squawks through his hand, hurrying to catch up to just glare at Keith in indignation. “I got chased by these awful slimy tentacled bird beasts for like twelve hours!”

He earns himself another shrug, but not an ounce more sympathy.

“It was a lucid dream, wasn't it?” Keith cocks an eyebrow at him, not bothering to slow his pace any. “You could have just thought yourself somewhere else.”

“Bullshit.” Lance scowls at him, stomping along half a step behind. “That was just a bad trip and nothing else.”

The door to Pidge's lab slides open in front of them, revealing Pidge's best imitation of The Thinker and a very sweaty Hunk.

“I don't get it... it should have worked perfectly.” She shakes her head and pokes around at the broken chunks of Hunk's headset. “I don't know why you reacted so poorly to the chemical.”

“Yeah, that seems like an understatement,” Hunk huffs, wringing his hands as he eyes the mangled plastic. “That was a solid night of torture.”

“See!” Lance whirls on Keith, shaking a bony finger in his face. “I knew it was a bad trip!”

“Ugh, you too?” Pidge grumbles as she flips back through her notes, snatching a pen to scribble down the results. “Did it at least last the whole night?”

“And then some,” Lance hisses, doing his best to burn a hole in her with his stare. “That was the longest night of my life.”

“But not lucid?” Pidge couldn't sound less sympathetic if she tried as she marks down their comments.

“It wasn't bad at all.” Keith rolls his eyes and drops his headset on one of the tables. “Maybe a little boring even.”

Pidge's chicken scratch pauses as she looks up at him, one eyebrow cocked.

“Boring how?”

Keith shrugs and leans a hip against the table, squinting at her notes.

“I dreamed I was still in my room, had a conversation with Shiro, then woke up... took all night but didn't feel like more than an hour or two.”

“That's... not how this works?” Pidge's brow wrinkles as she gives Keith a speculative look, then flips through a half translated copy of Olkari herbal medicine. “Lucid or not, you shouldn't just be in your room...” She trails off, muttering to herself before stilling with a curse. “Well shit.”

“Did we brain meld with poison mushrooms?” Hunk babbles, hands wringing double time now as he looks ever paler. “We did, didn't we. I knew they looked too good to ingest, like fondant.”

“They're not... poison,” Pidge hedges, trying to scoot the book away from Keith's questioning stare. “They're just meant for more... ritualistic purposes than this.”

“Oh my god,” Lance groans, throwing an arm to his eyes. “You made me do drugs and go on a spirit journey full of tentacles.” He lets the arm drop just to glare at her. “What if that's my spirit animal now?”

“That's not how that works,” Keith grunts, pinching between his brows as the defenders of the universe panic next to him over some glittery dust. “And it can't be that bad if I didn't get a single side effect.”

“Well, you're part Galra.” Pidge shrugs, pushing her glasses up her nose as she reads. “I guess they don't metabolize it the same way... it's just a mild sedative?”

“That can't be right.” Keith leans closer to squint at the words, but it might as well be a page full of hieroglyphics. “I definitely had a dream last night, and it was lucid.”

“Well, it wasn't the headset.” Pidge shakes her head and points to a blob of squiggly letters. “This is pretty clear now that I'm looking for it – it shouldn't have done anything but knock you out faster.”

“No, you don't get it,” Keith insists, unease rising. “I talked to Shiro, we had this whole dream conversation, it was definitely dream Shiro.”

Lance snorts, but avoids the low hanging fruit.

“We can check you room logs?” Pidge offers, holding her hand out for his communicator. “That way you can see what was going on last night.”

Four or five taps later and Pidge grunts, handing the tablet back with a log of Keith's activity. “There, see? Shiro's bio signature was scanned in at like eleven and out around midnight... you were just groggy from the sedative when he came over.”

The breath freezes in Keith's lungs as he stares at the screen in horror.

“Oh god, oh no...” He practically flings it away from him and staggers back to the door. “Oooh no.”

“Hey buddy, chill out.” Lance tries to catch him by the arm as he bumps into a tray, sending tools clattering. “It's not that big of a deal, we know it wasn't like some sketchy drug rendezvous... that's what Pidge does.”

“Yeah,” Hunk agrees, nudging a box out of Keith's path with a toe as he moves to slump against the wall. “It's not like you spilled your guts and confessed your undying love to him or anything.”

The high pitched gurgle that escapes Keith is barely human, even as it's muffled by his hands.

“Oh _no._ ”

“Oh shit.” Lance cringes, eyes bugged out as he points a finger at Pidge. “Make Pidge tell him you were on drugs.”

“Lance!” Pidge hisses, stuffing the container of powder into a box and out of sight. “You can't just tell people I'm peddling drugs – that's not even what this is.”

Keith buries his face in his knees, or tries to anyway, until Hunk tugs him back up to stand.

“It can't be that bad,” Hunk assures him as he wraps him in a sweaty hug. “Shiro's a cool dude, and I'm pretty sure he loves you too.”

“Not like that he doesn't,” Keith groans into Hunk's chest, wondering if he could smother himself in the hugs or convince Hunk to throw him off the roof. “You should've seen how sad he was – I thought I was just talking to myself!”

“That's a whole different bag of cats,” Lance clicks his tongue beside them, offering a single pat of condolence as he and Pidge share a grimace. “And you need therapy... but for now you might wanna settle with talking to him before he gets the wrong idea.”

“What idea could possibly be worse?” Keith grits out, not bothering to lift his face from Hunk's vest. “There is no idea more wrong than the idea I gave him last night.”

Pidge snorts as she sweeps the rest of the evidence of her crimes off the table and into a bin.

“Oh yeah, heaven forbid you two finally sort your shit out and live happily ever after.”

Her bony little fingers pluck into the back of his t shirt and tug him from Hunk's arms, prodding him toward the door with every deliberate poke.

“Go talk to him before you throw up all over my lab.”

“But-”

But the door is already sliding shut in his face, blinking with a cheerful red light to indicate the unwelcome state of his presence.

Traitors.

The trudge back to his room feels like a gallows march as he replays the conversation back in his head. He couldn't have possibly been more pathetic and needy if he had tried, thoroughly embarrassing himself and spilling his awful slimy secrets all over their friendship like tar. It's a wonder Shiro even stayed long enough for him to get it all out.

Maybe he can convince Shiro he was sleepwalking and imagined the entire episode... or he can cause enough blunt force trauma to his skull that Shiro accepts it as the deranged mutterings of a broken man.

There's even a decent sized thermos in his room he could use to do the job...

Unfortunately there's an even more decent sized man standing in front of his door.

Shiro perks up as Keith rounds the corner and freezes. There's a shy smile curling across his face as he holds two mugs of steaming coffee.

“Hey Keith.” His voice is as kind as ever, gaze soft as Keith wills his feet to drag his body onward toward his easy let down. “I thought maybe we could uh... chat over coffee?”

Keith stops in front of the door, staring dumbly down at the mugs before nodding and palming it open, grateful at least that it'll be in private. Shiro hands him one of the cups, light with cream - just the way he likes it, but catches Keith's hand as he moves to step toward the desk.

Their fingers tangle together as Shiro steps into his space, close enough that Keith has to look up at him to see the dusting of a blush creep across his chiseled features.

“Are you awake now, b-baby?” Shiro stutters over the pet name, flaring pink to his ears as he brings their hands up to his lips to press a kiss to Keith's knuckles. “I don't want any more confusion over how I feel... and I want you to remember this.”

Keith resists the urge to set the coffee down and pinch himself – if this is a dream, he doesn't want to know.

Besides, with the way Shiro is looking at him now, this disaster might just end up being his dream come true after all.


End file.
